


A-TRAIN'S ANAL ADVENTURE

by calcelmo



Category: The Boys (TV 2019)
Genre: Awkwardness, Gen, Lamplighter's fascinating porn collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:21:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26845045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calcelmo/pseuds/calcelmo
Summary: Lamplighter sounds extremely bored. Now he is very different to the brutally honest and burnt-out husk that they first encountered in the hospital. Frenchie doesn’t like it, but he also finds curiosity is burning a hole in the roof of his mouth.“Explain this to me,” he demands.
Relationships: The Female | Kimiko Miyashiro/The Frenchman, The Frenchman/The Lamplighter (The Boys)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 78





	A-TRAIN'S ANAL ADVENTURE

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just beyond gutted they killed LL off so fast, but even moreso that he and Frenchie didn't get any more scenes together. I like to think he's freaked everyone out with his weird porn watching habits at some point, not just Hughie. I hope you enjoyed this fic; please let me know what you thought! <3

There is nothing quite like learning the person you have hated for years doesn’t even deserve it. The place inside your chest where the hatred used to reside, hot and suffocating and swollen, is an empty cavity. You can breathe easier, but you are so used to breathing around this anger that it feels strange and wrong to do so unrestricted.

Even though he is calmer now, Frenchie’s stomach still flips over in adrenaline-fuelled rage whenever he sets eyes on the man he considered his enemy. On television screens it was almost unbearable. In person, it is magnified a hundredfold. 

Their little bunker slumbers, for the most part. Petit Hughie and Starlight wrapped up in each other in a way that only the recently enamored ever are. Kimiko likes to sleep underneath Frenchie’s bed- like a monster from your childhood room, but with less growling and more snoring. Mother’s Milk also snores; a deafening sound which is akin to the rumble of a freight train. 

Frenchie thinks that on the rare occasions Butcher does sleep, he keeps his eyes open. He can’t be sure. 

He cannot sleep, because their cosy, familiar establishment has been infiltrated, by his daily nightmare fuel personified. Even if he is not as evil as suspected, the kind of enmity they have enjoyed for this long does not simply go up in smoke. 

Lamplighter is sitting in front of the T.V. sorting through a collection of DVDs. He doesn’t look up when Frenchie stalks towards him to peer over his shoulder.

“Is that _porn?”_

He didn't mean to sound so scandalized. It has been a long day, full of surprises.

Lamplighter glances up to give him an unimpressed look. Upon closer inspection, it is definitely porn. A sizable collection. All of it is superhero themed, with a particular emphasis on the Seven. There are tasteful titles such as  _ Queen Maeve Queers It Up  _ and  _ THE DEEP GOES DEEPER.  _

Frenchie frowns. “Is this, uh, an ironic thing?”

Lamplighter doesn’t answer. He chooses one of the discs and puts it into the player. Frenchie glimpses the alluring title, which is ‘ _ A-Train’s Anal Adventure.’ _

Whatever he suspected Lamplighter enjoyed outside of lighting children on fire, this was not it. He is a strange, sad man. A somewhat earnest face, lined with the burden of grief and bitterness. Handsome and kind, but edged with cruelty. Frenchie is determined to figure him out.

They watch the movie for a moment or so, in a bizarrely comfortable silence, before Frenchie ventures, “Where are the ladies in this video, huh?”

“There are no ladies.”

“You are gay?”

“No.”

Lamplighter sounds extremely bored. Now he is very different to the brutally honest and burnt-out husk that they first encountered in the hospital. Frenchie doesn’t like it, but he also finds curiosity is burning a hole in the roof of his mouth.

“Explain this to me,” he demands. 

He sits down, keeping half an eye on this pornographic video showing a man dressed up as A-Train plowing into a white guy’s asshole. Maybe it would be hot if not for the stupid costume. Frenchie cannot really believe that Lamplighter is getting off on this. 

The supe shifts around, but he never takes his eyes off the screen. He barely even blinks. Frenchie is no professional but he’s tempted to diagnose an addiction. 

“Joining the Seven was the worst decision I ever made,” Lamplighter says, slowly. “But  _ leaving _ it… that destroyed me.”

Frenchie doesn’t say anything, but he watches Lamplighter to show he’s listening. 

“They shit all over me. Everyone does. Even you and Butcher and Mallory. I’m a nobody. It’s the worst humiliation you can imagine.” He pauses, still fixated on the T.V. “But then I watch these videos, and I realize that no one can escape it. One day, all that’s gonna be left of A-Train is this stupid porn video. No one will even recognize him in the street.”

“Ah,” says Frenchie. 

Now he understands. Well, he doesn’t really understand why anyone would want to sit and watch hours of dollar store Homelander with his hair blatantly dyed obnoxious gold jerk off over an Afghan woman’s tits, but he understands what Lamplighter  _ means. _ That fame is temporary. That even the sun sets in paradise.

Wait, no. That is Maroon 5.

“So… do you actually get anything…” Frenchie waves his hand hopelessly in the vague direction of the screen, “...out of this?”

“Do I jerk off to it, you mean?”

“Well, oui.”

“Sometimes.”   


“Oh. Okay.”

Frenchie struggles immensely to remember who he is talking to. This is not the heartless brute he has imagined strangling with his bare hands every night since he failed in his duty to Mallory. It is almost as if Lamplighter died too, that night. His feelings towards the guy are changing so fast it’s jarring, like being thrown through the windshield of a car. Pity stirs in among the boiling pot of residual resentment. 

In the video, Beta A-Train fucks his bitch at the speed of light. It’s impressive. A trickle of blood runs down the thighs of the bottom who moans, loudly. Frenchie glances around to make sure it didn’t wake anyone up, before he asks, “Have you ever fucked a supe?”

Lamplighter finally tears his eyes away to look at him, completely unreadable.

“Have you?” he counters, lazy and hinting at a smile. There’s something reptilian about the way he cocks his head, in the direction of Kimiko sleeping soundly under the bed.

Frenchie worries at his bottom lip with his teeth. He’s thought about it. Not extensively, and not in the creepy, predatory, fuck-boy kind of way. He has simply wondered what it would be like. To have her trust. To see her so vulnerable, so beautiful. To bypass that language barrier through touch alone. 

He shakes his head.

“Did you want to?” he asks, to divert attention away from himself. “Fuck anyone else in the Seven, I mean.”

“I’d fuck anyone,” Lamplighter replies. It’s both pointed and nonchalant. His eyes burn holes right through to the back of Frenchie’s skull, blue and flickering with the light from the porn video.

Frenchie looks away. But he thinks about it.


End file.
